


The True Hero Behind Iron Man: How Tony Stark Usurped the Role of Hero for Teenagers All Over Manhattan

by BuckytheDucky



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Gen, POV Outsider, no actual sightings of any Avengers, written as an article
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 19:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15154331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckytheDucky/pseuds/BuckytheDucky
Summary: Everyone knows that Stark Tower tends to gather random teenagers, and the occasional adult, in the lobby or right outside the doors, as they use the WiFi. But no one knows just how much it means to the kids - or to Tony himself. Until this reporter gets tasked with a fluff piece to both get to the bottom of the rumours and to make Tony Stark more approachable, give him better PR than he's garnered in the past.





	The True Hero Behind Iron Man: How Tony Stark Usurped the Role of Hero for Teenagers All Over Manhattan

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the first time I've ever written something like this - it's in the format of an article, and there are no actual sightings of the Avengers. Sorry!

The room I'm led into is spacious, even for being in Stark Tower. It's quite unlike the lobby; whereas the lobby is all sleek lines and shining chrome, with a large fountain splashing and bubbling merrily in the centre, with fast-moving people going to and fro, in and out of the large glass doors, and bright sunshine pouring in from windows high above, this room is decorated solely for the purpose of comfort. Large, overstuffed couches and armchairs fill the room, with squat round tables surrounding the furniture. A few desks sit beneath the windows on the far side of the room, and beanbag chairs have been plopped onto the dark grey floor like brilliant beacons of colour, inviting the occupants of the room to sit down, relax, and take a load off while being able to act their age. Various squares (“Holoscreens,” I'm told by a gangly redhead with braces when I ask) float in the air; some have complex mathematical equations while others hold Wikipedia articles about various historical events and people, and one even displays a Facebook profile of a local celebrity while two giggling girls and one blushing boy talk amongst themselves. Long counters line the walls, and I can't count how many laptop and phone chargers clutter up the surfaces. Placed evenly along the counters are coffeemakers and enormous tins; each one has a label ー _Coffee, Hot Chocolate, Tea,_ and there are a variety of different pumps beside the tins, an assortment of different syrups ranging from chocolate to fruit-flavoured. The aromas of rich coffee, sweet chocolate, and spiced teas mix and mingle in the air. I find myself being irrationally jealous of the occupants of the room as I breathe in the medley of smells. To my surprise, as soon as I'm seated on a grey armchair, sinking slightly into the cushion, a mug almost the size of my head is shoved into my hand. A depiction of the familiar Iron Man armour is displayed on the side, white-blue repulsor beams portraying the movement of blasting off towards the sky. The bright red of the mug is almost comical in its vividness, especially since it's split up by thin stripes of golden yellow. I take a sip of the hot chocolate before setting it on an end table nestled against the side of the armchair.

I take a closer look at the teenagers who are sitting or lying around the room; most are curled up on the sofas, but there are a few who are sprawled across the floor, typing furiously on their laptops. The most common expression in the room is a scowl of concentration. It seems like everyone is busy working hard on schoolwork, but they've let me into their space. Most of them don’t look up at me as I introduce myself, though I didn't expect them to. The kid who'd given me my drink glances at me from the corner of his eye and smiles a bit, so I direct my next statement to him.

“Thanks for letting me barge in on you.”

“Not a problem, ma’am.”

“So, how did it come to be that you guys all come here ー to Stark Tower, of all places ー to do your homework?”

And so he explains that it started out with just a few kids ducking into the lobby to do last minute homework (“Stark Tower has _the best_ WiFi,” he says at my confused expression, as if that clears up any confusion ー and it does, really). He says he'd only come in one day because his ride home had left without him, and he'd forgotten his bus pass at home, so he had had to walk home from school.

“It just started pouring out of nowhere, and I had my laptop, and I didn't want it to get wet ー we barely had enough money for it in the first place, so replacing it because of water damage was out of the question.”

“And what made you start doing your homework here, though?”

“Jackie and Reno were already in the corner of the lobby doing their work, and they saw my book bag and said 'Free WiFi, dude, use it, you'll be stuck here for a while.’ So I opened up my WiFi settings and there it was ー _Stark Tower-no porn please!_ I connected to it, and bam!, I was able to do research on the internet faster than I’d ever been able to before, and it seemed like the fact my laptop is basically ancient in technological years didn't matter a bit. After that, I came back whenever I had a paper to write. Then I started making friends, and now we come back every couple days.”

“And why did you start coming here?” I ask a teen wearing dark jeans and a brightly-coloured Paramore t-shirt, turquoise curly hair pulled back in a loose, low ponytail.

“Jackie and I had a history paper to write, and we'd gone to the library, but well, it's New York, so the libraries were getting crowded fast. And Starbucks is hit-or-miss when it comes to allowing people to just use their WiFi without buying anything, so we were walking through alleys trying to connect to a business's WiFi without letting them know like, 'Hey, we're stealing your internet and not paying a damn dime.’ Then our phones connected to this super-fast internet source, and we thought we hit gold, not gonna lie.”

A girl says from across the room, “It was better than hitting gold. Thanks to the WiFi here, Reno and I got an A on our paper because we could actually do some freaking research.”

“Yeah, it was...definitely needed,” Reno adds with a shrug. “Long story short, we kept coming back, because, while the WiFi is amazing, did you know Stark Tower is an amazing PokeStop?”

My confusion must show because Jackie laughs and joins us, explaining, “PokeStop. It's from Pokémon Go, the new game that just came out not too long ago.”

“I think Mister Stark is somehow messing with the game, though,” one of the boys on the couch a few feet away says.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because somehow, lures are dropped every half hour, on the dot, and this specific PokeStop gives, like, double the items every single time, even if your bag is full and you really shouldn't be able to get more.”

“Oh, stop complaining, Luke,” the first boy admonishes before turning to me. “Luke's just mad he hasn't caught a Party Pikachu or shiny Dratini yet.”

“Like you _have_ , Adam?”

The talk is cut short for a few minutes as the boys engage in what can only be called a pillow battle ー vividly-patterned pillows, larger than a grown man's torso, go flying through the air with terrible aim, and any chance of conversation is prohibited by the sound of giggling and shrieks of laughter. Even the kids who weren't originally involved become involved within seconds. I clutch my mug of hot chocolate, though it's now cold, to my chest protectively (it's the best I've ever tasted, and I'll admit to my childish urge to protect it, though I know I can always make more; however, the fact remains that Tony Stark has ruined me on hot chocolate, and Swiss Miss will never be good enough for me again). Eventually, they all settle down, going back to their schoolwork or, in some cases like Reno's, doodling on their tablets.

“I have to ask, how did this room become the designated room for WiFi?”

“That's Captain America's fault,” Adam says with such conviction, it makes me pause.

“Captain America's? How so?”

Adam is taking a drink now, so Letitia (or so it says on a strip of tape on her Hello Kitty laptop case) answers instead as she pushes a couple of thin braids from her face.

“Well, we were all in the lobby, I think there was about thirty of us, maybe more, and we were all just working on our schoolwork, and in comes Captain America, and of course, most of us are shy on the best of days, but add in the stress of working on papers or whatever that are worth, like, half our grade, and we get really reclusive.”

“Unless you're Jackie,” Reno interjects. “Then you become a talkative hot mess.”

“So do you!”

“Anyway!” Letitia's voice cuts through the impending argument between the two friends, though even I can see it wasn't going to be a _real_ one. “We were all there, he comes in and just kinda stops, ya know? Stops and stares at all these teenagers in the lobby, and he looked so confused, but when he wasn't immediately mobbed by this crowd of teenagers ー hell, we didn't even take _pictures_ , even though Jackie was practically vibrating out of her skin, she's got a thing for Cap,” Letitia confides in a faux-whisper, “He just got in the elevator and left.”

Reno takes over the explanation without looking away from the tablet. “We came back the next day, but the doors were locked, and a huge sign was on the front saying the lobby was undergoing some renovations, but we were more than welcome to sit on the steps out front and along the sidewalk for the WiFi. Which, we were all kind of shocked about, honestly. What company would allow a bunch of kids to use their WiFi with no expectation of any payback?”

“But you guys took them up on that opportunity?” I ask, and the eyeroll I get in response lets me know they think my question was a dumb one. I agree. Of course they grabbed that opportunity with both hands and ran with it.

When they arrived at the tower a few days later, loaded down with phones and laptops and fully expecting to spend an hour or two outside in the sun (though an awning was put up sometime during the night after the first day of renovations), they found a security guard waiting just inside the now-unlocked doors. He showed them to a room off to the side of the lobby, a teen named Cam explains, the room we're in now, and said the room was for them. The mini-fridges were already stocked with beverages from sodas to milk, juices and water bottles, and the cabinets held a variety of snacks ー potato chips, pretzels, granola bars, cereals and oatmeals, nut and soy butters, nuts and dried fruit. A cavernous closet attached to the room was full to the brim with fluffy pillows, blankets of varying sizes and thicknesses, and, amusingly enough, sleeping masks with the upper half of an Avenger’s face on each (my favourite, personally, is Thor’s). The appliances were shining with their newness, and a note had been taped to the top of a table in the middle of the room; that same note is now pinned to a corkboard near the door, as a memento to Tony Stark’s generosity: _This is your part of the Tower. Use whatever you need ー no cost, no time limit. Stay in school, kids. :) -TS _. I snap a quick photo of the memo before returning to my seat. I don't ask any more questions for a while, content with watching these kids relaxing without the weight of the world on their shoulders. A small group of girls sit in the corner; one braids another's hair while yet another is rubbing a comforting hand on her friend's back, speaking quietly enough that I can't hear her words, but I recognise the panicking expression on the other's face. I avert my eyes from the scene and focus on two boys who are leaning over the shoulder of a third as he plays a video game on the laptop that bears the Stark Industries emblem. I turn back to the quartet I've spent most of the time talking to and ask if Mr Stark meant what his note said. Reno nods immediately.__

“He hasn't asked us for a single thing, except for what else we might need, and even then, he uses JARVIS.”

JARVIS is, as most of the world knows, the AI that was created by Tony Stark, but no one is certain of just how intelligent the artificial intelligence really is. Obviously JARVIS is far more capable and brilliant than anyone could have imagined, since as Letitia explains, they merely need to ask JARVIS for something and it shows up within the hour for smaller stuff, by morning for larger requests.

“And he'll usually order dinner for us without asking if we're here past five,” says Letitia. “And he always remembers who has allergies, who likes what, who'll throw up if they eat certain things. I think Mister Stark coded him to be so damn smart, but I'm pretty sure it's Mister Stark who's, well, _taught_ JARVIS how to be so considerate.”

But what about the reputation Stark has built as a genius, playboy, billionaire who does what he wants, consequences be damned?

“That's just a façade, really. You can't actually be that inconsiderate and selfish down to your core and still do something like this without expecting anything in return.”

Reno's words ring true, and I must admit there's a certain amount of truth in the statement. Jackie nods along, adding “AI is supposed to be a learning system, right? And if Stark is so uncaring and selfish, who else would be teaching JARVIS to give a shit about some dumb teenagers who have nothing to offer?”

It's a very good question, one that I doubt I'll get an answer to if I ask the man we're talking about. So instead, I ask the kids: What makes you keep coming back, besides the free WiFi?

Adam is the one who replies, saying it's the fact that they can just _be_ instead of having to face the realities of their lives ー many of the teens who have come to use the WiFi are teens who don't have internet at home, whose financial stability is questionable at best. “Living in New York is expensive,” he says simply, and I have to concede that the statement is full of truth. Manhattan alone is high on the list of Top 10 Most Expensive Cities in the U.S. _(source here)_, and surrounding neighbourhoods and Burroughs aren't much cheaper. Hearing these kids confess to monetary difficulties and nights spent listening to their parents and guardians questioning whether it would be better to just move somewhere cheaper and the inability to do their homework on time because of having to take on a job or not being able to afford extras like internet or a laptop, I must admit, it breaks my heart. I was never a native New Yorker ー I grew up in the Midwest, where times may have gotten a bit difficult and sure, money got tight, but my childhood came nowhere close to what these kids go through. It makes me wonder whether Tony Stark knew what these kids needed and gave it to them with no questions asked, no payment necessary, and whether or not it's solely for them or if he's getting something in return, even if no one else knows it.

Before I leave, I make one inquiry from JARVIS: “What did Captain America have to do with this room?”

“Captain Rogers saw the crowd of teenagers inside the lobby and immediately appealed to Mister Stark about the safety hazards having so many people gathered in one area, especially one having such a high amount of foot traffic, can contain. Mister Stark saw the risk that Captain Rogers pointed out and had two conference rooms renovated for the purpose of this 'WiFi Lounge’.”

“Does Mister Stark know the good he's done for so many kids?”

“I believe Mister Stark is aware of the benefits that allowing these teenagers to gather here, even if they choose not to do their schoolwork.”

“Does he get any praise or recognition for it?”

“He does not. And if I may be so bold, ma’am, I am sure he would prefer not to make this into a situation where he receives accolades for something that is, as he calls it, a matter of simple courtesy.”

JARVIS’s British-accented voice gives way to a recording of Tony Stark speaking, his tone flippant. “I've got the money and the room, they have the need for a place of their own where they can be themselves and help each other and get support they might not be getting anywhere else and hey, it's my tower, I can do what I want.”

The audio clip is from an encounter that occurred shortly after news broke about the WiFi lounge, when Stark was stopped on the street by a group of paparazzi only a block away. I smile to myself as I pack away my belongings. Adam takes my empty mug, rinses it out in the sink, and teaches me a complicated handshake full of palms slapping, fingers snapping, and hands waving.

My time in the tower’s WiFi lounge was full of surprising information. While I may have known going in to the interview about the free WiFi that Stark provides, I could never have imagined the amount of care and thought he put into it. He doesn't want rewarded for his actions, he doesn't want compensation for the money and time he spent. He just wants these kids to do their best, to be happy for even a short time of every day, no matter the cost to him.

It appears that Tony Stark isn't quite the unthinking, uncaring, selfish man he's been portrayed as. And honestly? I am glad that the media was so wrong about him. His alter-ego, Iron Man, may be the hero known worldwide, but Tony Stark is a hero in his own rights, especially to the mass of teenagers he helps every day.


End file.
